Another Lousy Assignment
by messyhead
Summary: Oscar has been demanding a lot of Jaime lately, and hasn't given much in return...This 'story' was inspired by a question on The Bionic Project board about what it would take to make a bionic person feel whole. Kinda steamy. Thanks Bionic Project!


"So I need you to get in there and break the chains that are holding the timing gears." Oscar explained with his usual intensity. To call him a workaholic was a vast understatement, Jaime thought to herself. 

"You really need me for this? Don't they make some kind of industrial strength bolt cutters for that kind of thing?" she asked, her expression sour, her arms folded.

"Sure, but they're not exactly something you can slip up your sleeve." He looked up from his papers and noticed she looked listless, leaning despondently against the kitchen counter. "What's the matter?"

"I'm just tired." she said, rubbing her forehead. "I guess I can do this, but I'm tired, Oscar. This is the third job this month."

"I know, Babe. I'll let up after this, I promise." He suddenly realized his mistake. He had pushed her too hard.

"You have no idea how much these assignments mess up my life." she added, her frustration finding voice. "I get behind at work and at home my bills don't get paid. You know, I may be only half human, but I do get tired. You treat me like I'm some robotic swiss army knife. Pull me out of the drawer for any number of difficult little problems."

He stared as he listened, his mouth open. "Robotic... swiss army knife?" he blurted, more harshly than he intended, "You can't mean that!"

This was too much for Jaime. He was frowning at her with those intense black eyes, and the plain truth was she found him a little frightening when he was angry. She just didn't have the internal resources to bear it. It had been a hard and tiring week. Along with the last assignment, (which had been no picnic) there was a teacher's strike looming at the school. Emotions were running high, and she'd had an unfortunate spat with a fellow teacher that had bothered her for days. That spat had caused a rather painful bout of introspection, leaving her feeling fragile and sad.

"I'm sorry." she whimpered, dropping into a chair and burying her face in her hands. "I know I should be grateful - and I am, but..."

"No, no, no..." he interrupted, his voice impassioned. He gripped her upper arms with firm hands as he kneeled in front of her. "...that's not what I meant. I'm not angry, Jaime. What's going on with you?"

She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and slumped, almost allowing him to hold her up.

"Sometimes I do feel only half human. And for whatever reason, now is one of those times. I feel strange and alone and lonely. And, well - freaky. How could any normal, non-OSI person ever...be with me? They might as well fall in love with their radio. And you don't help." She frowned at him. "You're someone I should feel at ease with, but you're always rushing me off on some mission or other, because that's all I'm really good for. Jaime Sommers, or what's left of her, is just along for the ride."

Oscar winced. Her words were devastating to him. "All you're good for? That is just not true."He looked down, shaking his head. "This is my fault. I'm sorry."

"Well, yeah, it kind of is your fault, Oscar. Who else comes up with missions for me but you?" She laughed bitterly. Looking into his eyes she saw regret there, and something else she couldn't quite name - something that brought on a fresh wave of tears.

Oscar leaned forward and drew her into his arms. The embrace was made awkward by the chair and their jutting knees and the fact she had to bend down to him, but it gave her a warmth and a sense of safety that just made her cry harder.

He ran his hands up and down her back, feeling the sobs welling up under her ribcage. Her face was pressed against his neck, and her breath on his skin filled him with a fierce mix of love, desire, and protectiveness. Before he could stop himself he found himself turning his face to hers and kissing the tears away. He savored the salt taste on his tongue and the sweetness of her skin against his lips. Slowly and softly he kissed her lashes and the delicate skin of her eyelids. This seemed to soothe her, but then it suddenly occurred to him how incredibly inappropriate his behavior was. Jaime, both surprised and moved by this tenderness, was just feeling the beginnings of a response in the core of her body, when he abruptly pulled back and placed his hands on her knees, as though he was bracing himself against her.

"I'm sorry...I...what am I doing?" He looked at her sheepishly, but saw no judgment, only questions. Her nose was red and her lower lids still brimmed with bright tears. Guilt pulled at him. "There's obviously something I should confess."

"Confess?" she whispered, still feeling the warmth of his lips on her face.

"I haven't been honest with you, or even with myself, but I guess I... I've been coming up with all those assignments for you so that I had an excuse to, uh, see you." He shifted a little as he contemplated his next words. "You're not just an OSI tool to me, Jaime. Far from it." In fact," he added earnestly, "Rudy could have put your head on a pogo stick and I'd feel the same way."

She laughed and frowned at the same time, and wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Her heart was beginning to jump in her chest. "That is by far the strangest compliment anyone has ever paid me."

He cringed inwardly. He had a knack for saying ridiculous things at important moments, and now that he needed to express something profound to the woman he loved, he was bound to blow it. But on the other hand, it was Jaime - Jaime, who he trusted implicitly. He smiled ruefully. "That was bad, wasn't it? I'm not good at this kind of thing. I'm...not...very good with ... women...in case you hadn't guessed."

She found she was holding her breath. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying? She was now feeling all strange and shaky. "Were you the kind of boy who hit the girl he liked with his eighth grade math textbook?"

"Maybe. But I've been over that phase for a couple of years now. Listen..." he added, growing serious, "I don't want anything to change between us - I don't want to make you uncomfortable with me...but... I just can't let you go around thinking that...crazy thing." Would she understand? Had he made himself clear at all? Probably not.

Suddenly she got it. The last puzzle piece dropped into place in her mind and she could see the whole picture - his almost gleeful energy when they were together, her increasing sense of neglect when she didn't hear from him, or worse yet when OSI business was all he could speak of, the rootless loneliness she'd been feeling - the kind of loneliness you felt when there was someone who was distant when you wanted them close. She just hadn't allowed herself to put the puzzle together - until now.

"Maybe something needs to change between us." she said, looking shyly into his eyes, gently placing her hands over his. She felt a magnetic pull toward him, a wonderful inevitability to it. "Since it's confession time - I think maybe I need to make one too. I've been kind of mad at you lately and I guess... I thought you just saw me as an agent and... I think... I want you to see me as a woman."

"I do Babe - all the time. I've just been trying not to." he whispered, his gaze heated and alert. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms - but he didn't yet quite believe this moment was happening.

"You know," She smiled mischievously, "if you're not good with women and I'm only half a woman, we could be perfect together."

"That's not funny."

"Oh come on, it's a little funny."

"No." He stood up, grasped her hands and pulled her to her feet. "Babe, you don't understand." This time he was going to get it right. "When I look at you, I don't think to myself that I love your left arm but not your right, because that one is just a machine. I love you - all of you - exactly as you are. I don't care what you're made of. You're not a bunch of parts. You're Jaime." As he spoke he slowly wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. His lips were only an inch from hers. "Lovable... beautiful... luscious... desirable... Jaime."

She was captivated by the passion in his words, the heat of his body, the proximity of his mouth. She moved a fraction closer.

"So... I take it you don't ... object... to me... holding you like this?" he whispered.

She smiled and delicately brushed her mouth to his in answer, a teasing, sensual gesture. They breathed together, their lips just touching, holding in that moment as they contemplated the enormous changes that were upon them. As each second passed the blood heated in Oscar's veins. He pressed his lips to hers, starting softly, but quickly his kisses became hungry and passionate, igniting the same ravenous desire in her. He kissed her deeply, searchingly, as though he were reaching into her, seeking her soul.

Who was this passionate stranger in a form she knew so well? He was so familiar to her and yet his strong body against hers and the taste of him were so excitingly new and so perfectly right...

Then the phone rang and startled them both.

"Ignore it." he whispered, running his lips over her cheekbone.

"What if it's Russ? If it's Russ, you know he won't quit with one call." Reluctantly, she pulled herself from him and picked up the phone. Of course it was Russ, and she quickly handed the receiver to Oscar, who looked deeply grieved. She waited for a moment, unsure what she should do with herself, her body tingling in an agony of anticipation as she gazed at him, his back turned. Oscar was trying to end the call quickly, but Russ evidently had a number of things he wished to discuss and it was taking longer than she thought she could bear. She walked down the hall to the bathroom, slipped out of her clothes and put on her lightest, silkiest robe.

Stealing up behind him, she slid her arms around his body and pressed into him. This caused him to stutter into the phone, and she smiled. She slowly undid the top button of his shirt, and moved downward, laying the fabric open wider with each button she released. Closing her eyes and pressing her face to his back, she caressed his bare chest and stomach, exploring the rises and hollows of his body. He cleared his throat several times as he tried to explain to Russ why Jaime could not take the assignment.

"Well give Mark Peretski a call." he said, sounding a touch impatient. He's probably the..."

Slowly her hands moved down over his belt to the front of his trousers, and felt him hard under her touch.

"ri...uh...right ...man..." he grabbed her hand and held it tightly, "Sorry, I just stubbed my toe. Yeah, fine. He's probably the best bet. Listen I've got to run. I'll call you later." He jammed the phone into the cradle and in one motion turned to her, lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed, kissing her intensely. As he laid her down he covered her with his body, his mouth and hands greedily seeking the heat of her skin as he kissed her neck and breastbone. He lifted his head and gazed at her, his eyes smoldering as he held the fabric of the robe between his fingers.

"You're a very bad girl." he whispered hoarsely. "I almost treated Russ to a real earful." Jaime giggled and slipped his shirt from him. He slowly, teasingly, began to pull her robe apart, inch by inch exposing her naked body, and her laughter became a ragged breath. She ached to feel him against her. He sighed appreciatively, unevenly.

"You are so...very... very... beautiful." he murmured, bending to kiss her bare flesh. She arched her back to meet his lips. To him, every inch of her body was some kind of miracle. Each kiss, each caress lifted Jaime further into a state of ecstasy until she writhed under his touch. She wasn't in a state to make cool observations, but had she been, she would have noticed little difference in the response of her "real" body and her bionic limbs - her whole being was consumed by heat and need. She yanked desperately at his belt buckle and zipper and in a moment he kicked off his remaining clothing. Jaime pushed him firmly onto his back and eased herself against him. He moaned as he felt the fullness of her skin against his.

Oscar hadn't been with a woman for longer than he cared to remember, and never with one he loved so deeply as he did Jaime Sommers. Her effect on him was more than he could have imagined - as though he had awoken from a dark dream, or a long sickness - and he was now alive in a way that was completely new to him, and it was achingly, amazingly beautiful.

She began to explore him with her hands and mouth and tongue, wishing she could cover him completely, all at once, like rain. She caressed him with her entire body, in undulating motions, until his breath was wild and his desire became desperation. He couldn't stand it a minute longer. He rolled her onto her back and gently but insistently made them one. They moved together, slowly, rhythmically, gazing into each other's eyes as they experienced the union of their bodies and souls, building up and up to an unbearable, feverish intensity, then finally surrendering in a release that shook them both down to the core of their beings.

They lay satiated, ecstatic and astounded, silent for many minutes, just looking at one other. As her breathing calmed Jaime began to languidly run her hand down his arm, intertwining her fingers in his, releasing them, and moving back up again.

"I love you." she murmured.

"I love you too." His eyes were so warm, so loving, that Jaime knew her heart was completely safe with him.

"That was incredible. You've been saving that up for a while, haven't you?"

"Just for you." he smiled.

As her finger tips reached the inside of his upper arm she felt some odd bumps, almost like something written in Braille, except bigger.

She sat up, held his arm over her lap, and saw an arrangement of pea-sized circular scars.

"What's this?"she frowned.

"Cigarette burns."

"Oh, my god..." she gasped, appalled to contemplate how those little white nubs had been made. "somebody did that to you?"

"It's a long time ago." He continued to smile contentedly. She could have told him his hair was on fire and he would have been unperturbed.

The scars reminded her of something else that had come to her attention while he had been on the phone. She ran her hand down to his belly, to another, larger scar, which dented sharply inwards, surrounded by the ghosts of many stitches.

"What's this?" she asked, touching the spot, almost afraid of the answer.

"What?" he asked, lifting his head. "Oh, gunshot. A couple of years before you came on the scene. I can't feel anything five inches around that thing. The nerves never came back."

"Really?" she asked sadly, feeling suddenly protective of him. She began to trace a spiral with her finger, starting at the center of the scar. "Can you feel this?" she asked softly.

"No."

"This?" she prompted, making the spiral larger, slowing as she moved toward his abdomen.

A spark lit his eyes. "I can definitely feel that." He lifted himself up to kiss her.

"I guess we all get beat up a bit, huh?' she mused as she continued to trace a path on his body.

"Mmm-hmm. Some of us more than others." He tenderly brushed a tendril of damp hair from her face and took her into his arms. "My poor baby. I've always wanted to kiss you all better."

"Well, you've made an excellent start," she smiled, running her hands up his back, "but I'm going to need a lot more treatments."

"Yes." he agreed, as he kissed her chin. "We've got a lot of work to do."

"You know, Oscar, you're a big fat liar."

"I am?" He kissed her cheek, unfazed by the accusation.

"That's right. You said you weren't good with women."

"I'm not. Remember the pogo stick line? I rest my case." He kissed her mouth, slowly, easily.

"Oh, that was just cute. Take it from me - you're plenty good with...well, with me, anyway."

"Thank you." he replied, looking embarrassed. He frowned. "Speaking of which, you're the one whose pants are on fire around here."

"Me?" she asked languidly, leaning in for the next kiss.

"Yeah." Another kiss. "You said you were only half a woman. If you were any more woman you'd be lethal. And probably illegal."

She giggled and pulled him back down onto the pillows.

"So is this the end of those Swiss Army Knife assignments?"

"Mmm-hmm." He began to trace a spiral pattern on her belly, slowly moving outward. "You'll be getting only very special assignments from now on. Very sensitive ones." He kissed her, his tongue caressing hers. "Ones that require very close collaboration with me."

"How close?" she whispered, her mouth against his, his hand touching off sparks of desire throughout her body.

His answer was a deep kiss, one she hoped would go on forever.


End file.
